Why The Mellarks Are Frequently Under the Weather
by ZacFan18
Summary: Katniss and Peeta love being parents but find all the resulting starts and stops in their physical relationship to be more than a bit frustrating...until one day Peeta tells his employees he is under the weather and he and his wife finally get some quality adults-only time. Rated M for the reason you'd expect.


**Why The Mellarks Are Frequently "Under the Weather"**

SUMMARY: Katniss and Peeta love being parents but find all the resulting starts and stops in their physical relationship to be more than a bit frustrating...until one day Peeta tells his employees he is under the weather and he and his wife finally get some quality adults-only time. Rated M for the reason you'd expect. ;)

DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Hunger Games. The Trilogy of course belongs to Suzanne Collins. This is purely a work done for leisure and not for profit and no copyright infringement is intended in the use of these characters, their setting, or their situation.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Just wanted to say thank you to everyone in the HG fandom (and those in the HSM fandom who felt curious) who read, reviewed, favorited or followed when Large Game was posted. I didn't expect to crank another one of these out so soon but I guess I am just of a mood. Haha! Hope you enjoy it! This oneshot would also be post-Mockingjay. :) And it is a oneshot, same as LG was, so following it won't really help much; if you'd like to follow me though, I'd love that and I do have other HG stuff in the works, including a multi-chapter fic. Also, I don't usually write in first person narrative but I tried it out here. Hope it comes off well. Thanks for reading!

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"Mommy! Mommy!" Sniffle, sniffle. "Mommmmmmyyyyyy!"

I grit my teeth, grip my husband's arm and lovingly push him off of me. Sighing and offering a resigned expression, I roll myself off the bed, throw my nightgown back on and plod out of our bedroom on my way to hers. Once there, I crawl into her bed, gather her up in my arms and soothe her. It's not that I don't want to be there for her. I am her mother. I will always want to comfort her. I am also certainly one to understand the horror of nightmares and the way just having someone hold you after can make all the difference. But it seems like lately I am more mother than anything, which sounds selfish and ridiculous. To put it more plainly though, I miss being a wife. No, more than that, I miss just being a woman. Okay, I am glossing here…I want to have sex with my husband. Is that so wrong? But lately it's a lot of starts and stops and it is frustrating as hell…for both of us. As if on cue, I hear my son start to wail from the room next door. I look down at June and see that she is clutching onto me, begging me not to leave just yet. My ears catch the sound of footsteps in the hall and I look up to see Peeta glance in as he passes, rolling his eyes and running his hand through his unruly bed hair as he sighs. Then, I hear the door to our son's room open and he soon quiets down. I settle in more comfortably next to my daughter and though I don't mean to, I drift off to sleep. In the morning, Peeta wakes me and I smile up at him apologetically. He just shrugs.

"We'll make it happen one of these times," I whisper.

He starts to smile softly and nod his agreement and then looks distracted by some thought or idea. He does return his attention to me though and smile, but this smile looks a bit different and I wonder just what that is about. I give him a questioning look and he just shakes his head and says he's going to go get Jasper up. I slip away from June for a few minutes and just take a moment to breathe as I use the bathroom and brush my teeth, splashing water lightly on my face and trying to rub the sleep from my eyes. Then, I go back and wake up June, helping to get her dressed and ushering her downstairs where Peeta has Jasper seated at the table and giggling while his dad flips a pancake from his plate into the air.

"What's your daddy doing, Jasper? Being silly?" I tease.

He looks at me as though I am the silly one. "He's cooling off the pancake, mommy."

"Oh. Oh, I see."

Peeta looks at me with amusement on his face. My lips curl up at his expression and at my son's excitement.

June climbs up into her seat at the table and looks eagerly over at her father. "Daddy, can you flip a pancake for me too?"

"Sure, darling."

We continue on through breakfast and then while Peeta gets dressed and ready himself, I gather up the things the kids need for school. They are busy retrieving their jackets and putting on their shoes when Peeta returns and stands by my side. His hand rests at the small of my back and the warmth of it makes me smile. I look up at him to show him my affection. The look in his eyes gives me pause though. What is with that wicked expression?

"Daddy, look! I laced my shoes up all by myself," June exclaims.

His attention turns to her. "That's great, Junebug! I'm so proud of you."

I smile at her as well and then I feel Peeta shift closer to me. His mouth is at my ear and I tingle just from his nearness even if he just wants to tell me he'll stop and get milk on the way home.

But that isn't what he wants to tell me.

"I'm going to walk the kids to school," he murmurs and I wonder why he's saying this in a secretive way. "...and then I'm going to come home and fuck you." Oh. Oh! Oh my goodness. "Wait for me on the couch…naked."

"Daddy, are you ready?"

"Can we catch roly polies on the way?"

"Yes and yes. Let's go." He is remarkably composed for having just said what he did to me. I glance sideways and catch his eyes. They are gleaming. I know I am flushed and I can feel a warm, wet heat between my thighs. He leans over and places a light kiss on my lips. When he pulls back, I just continue to stare at him, wondering if I heard him right before.

"Say goodbye to mommy," he says then, snapping me out of my trance for the moment. I bend down and open my arms as each of my little ones gives me a hug and kiss goodbye.

"Have a good day!" I call after them as I see them out the front door.

"You too, mommy!" June yells back and Peeta turns to give me a knowing smile and a wink before turning back to the kids who are already pointing out the different creatures along their path. Oh yes, I heard him right.

I close the door as they start to disappear from my view and I enter the living room to the left. My eyes find the couch. He wants me naked. There. It has admittedly been some time since we've had sex anywhere other than our bedroom. The children have taken over every room in some fashion or another, even ours at times, whether they are barreling into it or just causing us to leave it when we had other things in mind, like last night. I stare at the dark brown leather some more. It's just a simple couch. Comfortable and practical. But now, suddenly, the idea of my husband having his way with me on it right here in the middle of the living room makes it appear different in my eyes. I thrill with anticipation. Then, I look up at the clock over the mantle and realize I won't have to wait too long for Peeta. Sure, he usually heads over to the bakery straight from dropping the kids off so I'm not sure of his exact commute time but the school's not that far. Even with seeing each of the kids to their classrooms, I can't imagine it'll take him more than half an hour total. And suddenly, I am nervous…which is ridiculous. This is my husband, whom I have had sex with numerous times…with whom I have faced death several times for that matter. Still, some parts of me are shaky and I move around trying to cope with my nervous energy. I pick up a few stray toys, searching the couch for them as well. Wouldn't want a talking doll or revving toy car to go off or dig into either of us whilst in the throes of passion. Then, I dash off to the bathroom, freshening up a bit further before I slip out of my nightgown and underwear and tiptoe back to the living room. I don't know why I'm tiptoeing. It's my house. There's no one else here. The curtains are drawn. No one else is going to see my naked form…no one but Peeta. But I just feel like this is something sneaky we're doing somehow. And I love it.

I approach the couch and gingerly sit down on it. The cool leather feels odd against my behind. Odd but nice. I play around with my positioning. I lie down facing the fireplace. Then, I flop onto my back instead, letting one foot fall to the ground so that my legs are splayed open. I stare at the ceiling for a moment and then laugh at myself, bringing my legs back together again. Sitting up again restlessly, I cross my legs, pulling my ankles inward and then just slouch forward, my elbows resting on my legs and my chin resting on my hands. Nope, that's about the least sexy pose I could assume, I decide. Getting frustrated with my own lack of sex appeal, I pull my legs underneath me so that part of my weight rests on them and the rest leans on the back couch cushion. Then, I fling an arm over the back of the couch. There, that's…somewhat better. I glance up at the clock. Why isn't he back yet?

I let my mind start to fantasize. I wonder what exactly he has in mind for this morning. I mean, I know what he has in mind but I just wonder about the details. The pace…the position…position_s_? I note that my heart is beating faster than normal and I try to take a few deep breaths as I wait. The anticipation is getting to me. The room is starting to feel quite warm. Just as I'm considering getting up to check the thermostat, I hear the key turn in the front door lock. I bite my lip as I hear the door open and then shut and I hear Peeta's footsteps as he moves…wait, where is he moving to?

I hear the sound of a cupboard opening in the kitchen, the clink of ice in a glass and the whoosh of water filling the glass. Not unfamiliar sounds…just not what I had been waiting on either. I can't help myself. I feel my brow furrow in annoyance. And then I hear the low whistle from behind me and turn to see that Peeta has entered from the kitchen and not the front hall. All of my perfect positioning and he didn't come from the direction I was facing anyway. When I see the admiring look on his face, I can hardly hold onto my annoyance.

"Now, this is a beautiful view," he says, moving closer, his eyes roaming every inch of my skin without shyness. He sets the glass he carries down on a coaster that sits on one of the end tables. He leans down over me, buries his hand into my hair and tilts my face up to meet his for a fiery kiss. His tongue overtakes my mouth and it still feels slightly cooled from his drink. The sensation of hot and cold only adds to the headiness of our kiss. He pulls back too soon for my liking but I watch as he pulls his shirt over his head and drapes it over the chair nearby. Then he kicks off his shoes and removes his socks. I watch him hungrily, waiting for him to remove his pants next but he doesn't. Instead he comes and sits down on the couch and guides my legs out from under me so that they are stretched out parallel to the back couch cushions and he is perched on the other side of them, keeping me there…as if I would care to be anywhere else at this moment. Then, one hand comes up to cover my breast as the other slides up between my thighs, traveling a direct path until his middle finger slips through my folds and curls up into me. I gasp even though I've watched it happen. Okay. The hubs is not wasting any time…not that I'm complaining. He retreats though almost as fast as he made his bold move. Now, I might have to complain. I watch curiously though as he reaches back to his glass on the table behind him and fishes out a piece of ice. My eyes widen slightly as he turns back around.

"You seem a bit…overheated, my love," he says teasingly. He drops the ice cube unceremoniously into the dip of my navel and I hiss and suck my stomach in out of reflex. He grins and uses two fingers to slide it up my abs and over to one of my nipples. The sting of the cold is a shock but is quickly replaced with the heat of his mouth and I moan at the pleasurable contrast and from Peeta's tongue. He always uses it well. He sucks on my nub until it is hardened and erect and the piece of ice is no more. Then he pulls back and retrieves another to begin his sweet torture on my other breast. As he's finishing up on that nipple, through my gasps, I manage to ask him saucily "was it just my breasts that felt overheated?" I feel the smile on his lips as they brush the overly sensitive nub he is pulling back from. His eyes tell me he likes the challenge or request implied in that question. He reaches for his glass and takes a sip of water, keeping his gaze locked with mine all the while. "No…your cunt is downright feverish." I blink at his bold choice of words. Then again, he did say he was going to fuck me. He's being quite blunt today.

"I'll have to hold the ice in my mouth or it won't stand a chance," he continues before taking another larger sip from his glass and sucking two pieces of ice into his mouth. He slides off of the sofa so that he is kneeling next to it, sets the glass down on the carpet behind him and shifts my body so that I am sitting in front of him, my feet on the floor, my legs spread and my ass perched on the edge of the seat cushion. I barely lean back before his mouth is on me. Did I say he uses his tongue well? I meant exceptionally well. Amazingly well. My God, I think he must do daily tongue exercises well. And the temperature mix…the chill to the sizzle…it feels incredible. It is doing the opposite of drowning my fire though. He pulls back and I'm ready to jump him but he just goes for another ice chip with his hand this time. "I changed my mind. I want to catch it as it melts." I watch as he sets the ice chip down at the top of my engorged lips. Then, it starts to slide swiftly downward and he laps his tongue up the length of my folds to catch it. I moan and throw my head back with pleasure, the muscles in my thighs and ass contracting with blissful tension. With the ice in his mouth, he laps again and again and then sucks on my clit while thrusting two fingers inside of me and eventually three. I am so on edge already it doesn't take long before I am quaking and pulsing for him, chanting his name like a reverent prayer.

He sits back on his heels and just smiles up at me. My breathing is labored but I manage to smile back. He stands up and places his glass back down on the end table and slides onto the couch next to me again. He holds me against his chest and I place light kisses there as I calm down. Then my hand moves down his body and grasps his hardened member through his pants. He sucks in a breath and I smile. My turn. I reach down and undo the belt, button, and zipper. Then, I reach inside the front opening of his boxer briefs and pull his erection out for my appraisal. I eye it hungrily, stroking him for a minute or so before lowering my mouth to engulf him. He is rigid and hot and his hips buck involuntarily as I suck him enthusiastically. He moans and buries his hands in my hair but he stops me after a couple minutes and the need is clearly written on his face and in the tension of his body. "I just…I need to fuck you now," he says, his voice strained.

I sit up and can't resist teasing, though it comes out sounding more breathy than I had expected. "Oh, well, if you must…"

He gives me a devilish grin and then hauls us both to our feet, yanking me flush against him before kissing me…hard. His tongue invades my mouth without preamble and steals whatever breath I had left. His lips are borderline bruising but I don't care. I am so turned on right now and I wrap my arms around his neck trying to pull him even closer. It is more than obvious that my need is as great as his. When he pulls back and releases me, his breathing harsh and mine matching his, I stare up at him with lust-filled eyes silently encouraging him to lead me. I'm pretty sure this is what he had in mind anyway as I see the sexy quirk of his lips before he speaks, his voice a deep timbre that makes me shiver with anticipation.

"Kneel on the couch, holding onto the back of it," he directs.

My lips curve into a smile and I turn to do just that. Feeling saucy though, I keep my legs together. I hear the rustle of clothing and know he is now completely naked behind me. I hear his soft chuckle. He knows what I am doing. I figure he'll just tell me to spread my legs and I can enjoy hearing the additional command but he surprises me by swiftly sliding his hands around and between my thighs, gripping my inner thighs, lifting me up, pushing them apart about a foot and then setting my knees back down on the cushions, close to the edge so I am in a more prone position for him.

"I'll fuck you like that soon too, babe, but right now, I want you spread wide for me."

I'm trying to figure out exactly what he means when I am distracted by his dick prodding my ass cheek. I feel it press against me in several places and I feel one of his hands come down to rest on my hip. For all of his urgency, he is still taking the time to tease me. I feel the underside of him slap lightly against a rounded cheek and I think he is having a bit too much fun with this. And then I moan as I feel the length of him slide forward between my legs. He lightly thrusts it so that the friction just barely reaches my clit. I push my ass back further but he just retreats enough to keep up his teasing to his liking.

"I love how much you want me to fuck you." He slides his hands around to my breasts and fondles them lightly before sliding his hands down over my stomach and down the front of my thighs. I feel the hard muscles of his chest against my back as he leans over to say huskily in my ear "You look so fucking hot right now."

I flush with pleasure at the compliment and with heat at the words that Peeta has been using. He is usually pretty mild-mannered and he doesn't curse often, only if really upset, or in this case, really turned on. I like this side of him as much as I like the other.

He sucks on my earlobe for a moment and I grip the back of the couch harder. Then, he trails a few kisses along my shoulder and back before standing up behind me again. Another few seconds and he is back to rubbing his cock against me, moving it in light circles around my clit this time, making me moan again. I put my head down and enjoy the sensations, wondering when he'll decide he can't take it anymore. It doesn't take long.

He slides back along my folds and positions himself at my entrance. The hand he had been holding himself with grasps my thigh and the other one gathers some of my hair and tugs just enough so that I raise my head again. "I want to hear every sound you make," he says before plunging into me and getting to hear me cry out loudly and clearly. He does a few more hard, deep thrusts and then he slows down, torturing me with deliberate movements. He picks up his speed a little bit, stroking my wet depths thoroughly but then slows down again. I groan so he can hear it. He laughs. He slides his hands slowly up my back, over my shoulders and down my arms. Then they come around to my breasts and he strokes them, circling and running his fingers over my nipples, making me squirm. He bends down and lightly nips at my back and I gasp. Then, one hand moves down to my sex and he starts to stroke me externally as he continues to do so at an even pace internally. My head naturally drops forward as the sensations at my core increase but his other hand comes back to my hair, tugging once more so that I am staring straight ahead at the wall at the painting that Peeta did of a beautiful ocean sunset years ago. I stare at the delicate and rough lines of the lapping waves in the painting as my own waves of pleasure overtake me and his name resounds on my lips. He has ceased his movement and I hear his uneven breathing behind me. The orange, pink, white and blue hues of his painting blur in my vision as my body clenches repeatedly and then finally stills around him. Both of his hands move back to my hips and he squeezes lovingly as he says "God, I love that."

Breathless, I giggle a bit. I can't help it. I'm giddy in my afterglow. "Me too!"

He laughs and then I feel him rearranging his body and I remember what he said earlier. He scoots me forward somewhat and moves his legs so that they are on the outside of mine. Then, he pushes my legs closer together and places both of his knees on the edge of the couch before slowly starting to slide himself in and out of me again. In this new position-or former one, if you want to count my earlier teasing defiance-I can feel every inch of him with more friction. I feel more full, more stretched, more trapped in the best kind of way.

"Katniss, you feel so tight…so good."

I see Peeta likes it too.

As he continues his inward and outward strokes, I realize that in this position I also more acutely feel the friction and the vibrations that resonate from his thrusts on the outside, more specifically, around my most sensitive bundle of nerves. I feel another orgasm begin to build. Peeta moves his hands over my ass, caressing and squeezing and then he runs his hands back up over my back as he had done before. When he slides them up over my shoulders though, he stops, grips onto them and then really starts to pound into me. I'm pretty sure I squeak, then gasp, then moan repeatedly whilst emitting all other manner of jungle sounds as he continues his delicious assault. Each thrust is so deep and though I'm not even sure how he does, he picks up speed further and I have no time to bother catching my breath at all as he rides me as his own need dictates. He pauses, bends forward, and moves his hands to my breasts. There is no light squeezing this time. He squeezes them a bit roughly and starts thrusting more forcefully again. His fingers pinch my nipples and I feel myself getting so close to bliss again. He continues to tug and roll them in his fingers as his cock hits every designated letter of the alphabet along my wet walls. I could really give a shit about all of that…science or whatever. All I know is that Peeta has never had any difficulty hitting every good spot I must have. I hear the rhythmic slap of our skin, feel the hot sweat on his chest and my back, see the painting still in front of me, a shaky vision as my body keens forward repeatedly, and smell the unique scent of our joining so thick in the air I can nearly taste it. And I feel the pressure that I love…that demands release. He knows my body well too, knows the telling music I produce and when it is about to hit its crescendo. So, it's no surprise when he breathes in my ear "Come for me, Katniss." And I do. And with one final thrust, he joins me, pulsing and jerking in the way with which I am so familiar and emptying himself inside of me.

I collapse forward over the back of the couch and Peeta lets his weight rest on me briefly before slowly moving backwards and sliding himself from me. He stands for barely a few seconds before turning and flopping down next to me, letting his head fall to the back couch cushion next to where I have draped myself. We are both breathing heavily and staring back at each other, somewhat in awe. No, it's obviously not innocent first-time sex awe. We've been at this a while now. It's not "we've never done it in another room or on a couch before" awe either. We have. It's been a while, like I said, but we have. No, it's just that awe that we still get in the afterglow, the awe that we can have this effect on each other, that we can trust each other this much, that it can feel this amazing, and that it only seems to be getting better over time. The feeling is wonderful. Almost better than the sex itself. Almost.

I smile at him as my breathing slows and I, no doubt less than gracefully, twist around so that I am reclined next to him. He wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me close. I pull my legs up next to me on the sofa and lean into him, resting my head against his chest.

"I think I'm going to walk funny for the rest of the day," I murmur into his skin.

He chuckles and I feel the vibration of it beneath my cheek. "Just the rest of today?" he teases. "Damn, I was going for the rest of the week."

I slap his chest playfully. "You're evil."

"I don't think that's what you were thinking a few minutes ago. I believe the words 'yes,' 'more,' 'harder,' and 'don't stop' were used."

I lift my head and shoot him a mock glare. "Damn you and your good memory."

He just leans up and kisses me lightly before letting his head fall back to the cushion. I let mine rest on his chest again and we lay in silence for several minutes, eyes closed, just enjoying this time together, time as just us. His hand rubs my arm lightly, sweetly and I let my fingers draw small shapes over his pecs and upper abs. Eventually, I break the silence again.

"Are they going to call you soon wondering where you are?"

"Nah. Gavin opened today and I told him to call in Trevor to help because I was feeling a bit under the weather."

I sit up again and grin down at him. "Liar, liar, pants on fire."

He matches my grin. "My pants were on fire. Guess I wasn't lying."

I roll my eyes. "And a good thing you took them off then, huh?"

"Indeed."

The realization dawns on me. Peeta's not going to the bakery today. I only lead music classes at the school a couple times a week and I've had good hauls in the woods lately, so I don't really need to hunt today. "So, we have the rest of the day together, then?"

He places his hand on my cheek and rubs his thumb gently over my lips, causing a tingling sensation that makes my heartbeat accelerate a little. The look in his eyes, a mix of tenderness and desire, makes my breaths start to come a bit faster again. "We do," he says huskily.

I think for a few moments as we gaze at each other and then I slowly rise from the couch, my legs still a bit shaky. I take hold of his hand and bring it up to my lips to kiss it. Then, smiling, I say "Meet me in our bathroom in ten minutes. Stay naked."

Then, I turn and leave the room and make my way to our master bath, where we have a huge tub we don't use as often as we should. I fill it with hot water, add bubble bath, set towels nearby, and step in. I sink down and close my eyes for a blissful couple minutes and when I open them, I find my husband leaning against the door frame, still naked as the day he was born, just watching me.

"So, a bubble bath is how you wanted to spend our adults only day?"

"Hell yes...partly anyway."

"And what else did you have in mind?"

"Mmm...come on in and we can discuss that."

He smirks and retrieves his waterproof prosthetic cover, pulling it on before moving toward me. Then, he carefully steps in and settles across from me, closing his eyes with pleasure too as the heat of the water surrounds him.

"You can say it."

"What?" he asks.

"I have good ideas."

He shakes his head, amused. "Yes, you have good ideas. I'm pretty sure my initial good idea got us here though."

I stare back at him for several seconds. He's right of course. But just because he starts something phenomenally doesn't mean I can't end it fantastically. I smile and nod and move toward him through the water. I slide behind him and he moves forward to accommodate this. I place my hands on his shoulders and start to give him a massage. "Well, then, I really should thank you."

Peeta leans his head back and tilts it to one side so he can look up at me. A smile pulls at his lips. "That really would be the proper and polite thing, Mrs. Mellark."

I laugh. "That's me, proper and polite." He enjoys the joke as well. "But if we're on the subject, you haven't exactly been proper or polite this morning."

"No, I guess I haven't."

"Thank you for that." I know he's smiling without looking.

"Anytime."

We're silent for several minutes as I smooth the muscles of his back and then run my hands down over his chest. I can't resist sudsing up his nipples much more than they would need for cleanliness. How much cleaning do nipples require anyway? Peeta doesn't seem to mind, go figure. Nor does he mind as I caress his stomach or his upper thighs. He doesn't particularly protest as my hand encases his now hardening member and begins to stroke. His head falls back against my shoulder, his eyes closed, and he just lets me have my way with him for a while, his breathing stunted and grunts escaping him periodically. I have every intention of making this all about him but he has other ideas. He eventually twists in my arms and places a hand behind my neck, bringing my lips to his. His other hand comes up and sees that my nipples are as clean as his. This is so important, you know. Then, that hand descends to cover my ass cheek and he squeezes it before pulling me around so that I am on his lap. He is getting all kinds of points for smooth moves today. He doesn't break our kiss but the hand that is behind my neck moves down my chest and stomach and lands between my legs. I moan into his mouth as his fingers slide gently through my folds. He touches me reverently and it drives me crazy. I squirm in his lap, driving him crazy as well. He dips a finger into me as his tongue teases past my lips. The kiss is sensuous-his tongue is as unhurried as his hand, a taste of my husband's desire both north and south. When he eventually removes his tongue and his hand, I am needy but I remember my original purpose in this bath. I reach down and grasp him again but he stills my hand with his own. I meet his eyes, a question in mine, which I verbalize.

"Peeta, what do you want?"

He lifts me easily by the waist and I guess at his purpose and straddle his legs, kneeling over him in the water. He smiles but moves my legs so that they are wrapped around his waist.

"I want, Mrs. Mellark, to love you properly and politely now."

A short laugh bursts up from me but dies out quickly as he lifts me onto his silky, wet erection. I sink onto him fully and he pulls me even tighter to him, kissing me and beginning a slow rocking motion that fuels the tingling, heat, and other sensations in my core. I cross my ankles behind him, wanting to keep him as close to me as possible too. His hands are at my waist and lower back and he kisses me, first on the mouth and then on my face, along my jaw and neck, on my shoulders and on my breasts. He brings one hand up to hold one of my breasts up as he takes my puckered nipple into his mouth, all the while still rocking into me. My hands are buried in his now damp blonde locks and I am uttering his name quietly, a thank you of sorts. He loves my other breast with the same precision as the first and then pulls my torso closer to his so that my wet chest slides against his own, my arms around his shoulders and hands on his back. Then, he steadies me with both hands on my waist again and kisses me as he begins to thrust upward with each rock forward, soon moving me up and down on his length as well. The friction of our joined bodies has been building my pleasure slowly and this additional stimulation pushes me closer to my bliss. Peeta breaks our kiss and stares up at me, watching me as he varies his movements, daring me to break eye contact. I'm not one to lose a dare easily. My mouth is parted and moans escape it every few seconds. I am holding firmly to him. With my crossed legs, I am trying to pull him even further into me with each thrust. His blue eyes are as entrancing as always, especially with the love and lust I see in them right now. He breathes my name, encouraging me. The intensity of the moment rises and rises until I am pushed over the edge, crying out and shuddering in my husband's arms. His movements don't cease until he has dropped his head to my shoulder and lost himself to the power of our joining as well. We cling to each other as we catch our breaths and come down from our highs.

As we calm down, I feel his lips raise to my ear. "I've missed you, Katniss."

I smile and kiss his shoulder. "I've missed you too. I think you may have to come down with something next week too."

He pulls back slightly and grins at me, capturing my lips for several moments. "I think so too. And you'll be my nurse?"

I smirk back at him, nodding. Visions of exactly what that could mean fill my head…

I can't wait till next week.


End file.
